Page 78 of The Syndicater (Dark Verse 6)

Her breath hitched, a new wave of arousal, sharper, starker, washing anew over her.

Licking her lips, never removing her eyes from his, Lyla dipped a finger inside herself, the sensation almost making her eyes flutter close. Almost. She couldn't remove her gaze from his even if she wanted to. She didn't. Because he watched her like she was the finest dessert and he was a man starved.

Hewasstarved.

Another finger joined the first, pumping in and out of her, never reaching the depth he did, the skill his fingers did, the satisfaction. But he was there, and watching him watch her as she pleasured herself was heady. She would never have been able to do it a few months ago. Now, there was no cloud of hesitation anywhere.

A moan left her as she pressed the heel of her hand hard into her nub, and suddenly, Dainn removed his suit jacket. She watched with lidded eyes as he took his gloves off, taking his time, placing them on the counter, along with the jacket. Then, he did the same with his cufflinks, and then, he began rolling his sleeves up over his forearms, exposing the burns on his hands and the dark hair and the ropes of muscle. He sat back down on the ledge and leaned forward, one muscular arm over her to the opposite edge of the tub, caging her in the water.

She tilted her head back, to keep their gazes locked, the dark, musky scent of his flesh and cologne wrapping around her as he leaned closer and closer and closer.

And kissed her pulse. It fluttered.

His scruff rasped over her skin as he kissed her neck, coming up to her jaw, biting and licking and suckling on her skin, the heat an inferno inside her body as her fingers worked over it.

"You're a fever in my blood,flamma," he muttered against her ear, the sound of his low, deadly voice tipping her over the edge. Lyla turned her face into his shoulder, biting his hard muscle over the shirt as pleasure washed over her, her body trembling but hungering for more, more that she wasn't able to find no matter how hard she rubbed herself.

"Dainn," she whimpered against his skin, and suddenly his hand was right there, cupping her. Lyla watched his muscular forearm dip under the water, the fabric of his shirt wet and clinging to his arm, and she panted.

He swirled a finger around her opening, once, twice, teasing, tormenting her as she came down, before boldly pushing two fingers inside her. Felicity felt her walls clench around him as he pumped his fingers skillfully, over and over and over, building her right up, her body arching into his touch as her hands cameout of the water, gripping the back of his neck, wetting his shirt even more as she pulled his face down.

Their mouths clashed together in a frenzy, his fingers increasing in speed as the heel of his hand pressed into her, his tongue spearing her lips in sync with his mad, mad fingers, making her heart thunder as the heat coiled at the base of her spine, coiling tighter and tighter and tighter and he kept stroking and moving and kissing and never stopping and she couldn't breathe as her breasts heaved and water lapped over the rim and he was surrounding her, inside her, moving in her, just as he always had and he always would and suddenly, he pushed hisfingers in, curling them, and she shattered with a loud scream muffled against his mouth.

He pulled back his lips as he pulled out his fingers, and Lyla opened her eyes, her body limp but not sated, watching him. His lips were wet, as was his torso, the front of his trousers tented with the evidence of his own need.

Lyla blinked up at him as he stood up, his own fevered eyes on hers, and removed his wet shirt from his body, throwing it in a corner. She watched the play of muscles over his flesh, his abs rippling with every heavy breath he took, as he undid his belt and removed his trousers, standing there without hiding his piercings.

Fuck, she'd missed them.

She watched him with unabashed hunger, feeling that warm, low coil of arousal spring forth from her core.

Before she could do a thing, he had her out of the tub and into his arms, carrying her out of the suite and to the bed.

He dropped her on it, his eyes intense. "Hands."

The words, the command, filled her with need. She extended her hands, watching as he wrapped his belt around her wrists.

He turned her to face the headboard, climbing up behind her, his face scenting her neck and his hand cupping her breast possessively. "You got one, but you're getting punished tonight,flamma.For touching another man."

She whimpered, needing it, needing him. She could feel his heavy erection against her back, the metal on them kissing her skin as one of his hands traveled lower, cupping her boldly again.

Fire shot through her blood.

"I'm proud of you," he whispered into her flesh. "For taking your pleasure yourself. Did you think of me?"

"Yes."

"Such a good girl for me,flamma."

His words inflamed her even more.

His fingers played with her, plunging and rubbing and stroking, bringing her to the edge. She began to breathe heavily, her breasts heaving, her eyes rolling back into her head.

And he stopped.

Lyla came crashing down, a cry leaving her lips.

"Shhhh," he hushed her. "You can't be loud, flamma." His fingers restarted. "Someone might come in if you make a noise." He pushed a finger inside, nipping the side of her neck. "You know what they'll see? A stranger with their precious little guest. They will see you begging for my cock, see you a needy mess for me, you don't want that, do you?" The heat in her body was going to give her a stroke as sensations assailed her. She bit her lips to wrangle her cries.

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